


how big your brave is

by FaiaSakura



Category: To All the Boys I've Loved Before Series - Jenny Han, To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before (2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Book References, Communication, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Love Letters, Peter Kavinsky/Lara Jean Song-Covey - Freeform, movie canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-20 20:00:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17029077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaiaSakura/pseuds/FaiaSakura
Summary: When John Ambrose receives a love letter from Lara Jean, he doesn't know what to think.





	how big your brave is

**Author's Note:**

  * For [htbthomas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/htbthomas/gifts).



> I took a bit of liberty with your prompt for movie TATBILB, exploring a John Ambrose that is informed from PS I Still Love You (which I read to get a feel for him), and inspired by but not exactly the mid-credits John. I hope you enjoy!

John Ambrose canon divergence - how big your brave is

 

When his dad came into his room to say the Barbers had dropped off a letter for him, John wasn’t sure what to think. He stared in confusion at the neat letters of his name on pretty stationery, and the letters of Lara Jean’s name on the envelope flap. 

Lara Jean had been his friend all throughout elementary and middle school, but John hadn’t spoken to her since he moved to the town over in the summer before high school. He felt only somewhat guilty about letting that friendship–all the friendships from their group–drop because while he never reached out, neither had any of them. The blame was mutual.

John skimmed over the letter quickly and was left in a state of blank disbelief. He carefully reread the letter, going word for word, to confirm that winter break hadn’t left his mind addled.

The letter was dated the same year he moved away.

_ Dear John Ambrose McClaren, _

_ I know the exact day it all started. Fall, eighth grade. We got caught in the rain when we had to put all the softball bats away after gym. We started to run back to the building, and I couldn’t run as fast as you, so you stopped and grabbed my bag too. It was even better than if you’d grabbed my hand. I still remember the way you looked—your T-shirt was stuck to your back, your hair wet like you just came out of the shower. When it started to pour, you whooped and hollered like a little kid. There was this moment—you looked back at me, and your grin was as wide as your face. You said, “Come on, LJ!” _

He remembered that day, only because he remembered calling her LJ. It was the first and only time he did that, because she had always been fastidious about insisting on being Lara Jean when others accidentally called her Lara. LJ was technically a shortening that included both Lara and Jean, but he hadn’t wanted to be presumptuous. While he was worrying about using the wrong name for her, she had been falling in love. That was bittersweet because he started liking her before eighth grade ever started.

_ It was right then. That’s when I knew, all the way down to my soaking-wet Keds. I love you, John Ambrose McClaren. I really love you. I might have loved you for all of high school. I think you might have loved me back. If only you weren’t moving away, John! It’s so unfair when people move away. It’s like their parents just decide something and no one else gets a say in it. Not that I even deserve a say—I’m not your girlfriend or anything. But you at least deserve a say. _

The vehemence of her claim, that someone could love him with such unwavering conviction, warmed him right up in a way he had never felt before, in a physical, tangible way that cast away the lingering winter chill making its way into his second floor bedroom. Oh, how she wasn’t wrong that he might have loved her back. 

_ I was really hoping that one day I would get to call you Johnny. Your mom came to get you after school once, and a bunch of us were hanging out on the front steps. And you didn’t see her car, so she honked and called out, “Johnny!” I loved the sound of that. Johnny. One day, I bet your girlfriend will call you Johnny. She’s really lucky. Maybe you already have a girlfriend right now. If you do, know this—once upon a time in Oregon, a girl loved you.  _

It was funny that she wanted to call him Johnny, because he liked the way she had always said his name fully – John Ambrose, instead of the plain John or McClaren everyone else used– in a way that was both formal and friendly. After he started liking her, he had enjoyed the way John Ambrose and Lara Jean had matched as-two word names. 

_ I’m going to say it just this once, since you’ll never hear it anyway. Good-bye, Johnny. _

Except that he was hearing it now. Why? How?

_ Love, _

_ Lara Jean _

From the date and the words both, it’s clear Lara Jean wrote this just after eighth grade. The passion and emotional depth conveyed by simple words threatened to pull him under like an ocean tide. Any understanding he could have of them was ephemeral, like words written on sand being washed away. The reread didn’t do much to dispel confusion.

John had always liked Lara Jean best of their group, though he had spent more time with Peter. It was Lara Jean who always had a kind word to say and did things with drive that lit up her eyes. She made gestures with true meaning and acted with a pure heart. They got closer in Model UN together and he ended up with a horribly embarrassing crush on her during seventh grade.

She had never made fun of his stutter, god, that awful stutter, not even once. The other girls had giggled about it a few times when they were younger and the boys had been a little more mocking, but never Lara Jean. 

His own feelings hadn't been as deep as the words in her letter conveyed of Lara Jean's, and regardless of all the public speaking experience he gained, John Ambrose most certainly couldn’t have written anything even half as elegantly as Lara Jean. If this letter was indeed from her. 

The postmark date on the envelope showed it was sent this past September, but the letter was dated from years ago. John wondered if the letter was some odd prank by Peter or Trevor, though why they would do so was beyond him. It certainly wouldn’t actually be from Lara Jean if it were a prank – she was much too genuine for this kind of pranking. 

Perhaps this was some sort of modern cleanse type thing? His mom sometimes talked about the neighborhood ladies who were into spiritual flows, minimalist furniture, and empty wardrobes. Was it possible Lara Jean decided upon some emotional cleanse that involved confessing her secrets? It said right in the letter  _ you’ll never hear it anyway, _ implying he shouldn’t have received this letter.

While John no longer had a crush on her, there was still a strong fondness in his heart for Lara Jean Song Covey. He knew moving away she would be the one he missed most, and not just because she brought the best cake ever for his goodbye party. God, that cake! She hadn’t needed to bring anything at all, but of course Lara Jean didn’t show up empty-handed. That homemade cake was the most sumptuous mix of chocolate and peanut butter that John had ever eaten to this date. He could still picture that cake, the layers of deliciousness with his name spelled out in Reese’s Pieces, and licking his hands to get in every last crumb and trace of it. All the tableware and cutlery had already been packed but if they had used plates, John surely would have licked his plate. 

There was no way to find out why the letter was sent, except to ask Lara Jean herself. She probably still lived in the same house, but if the letter was written years ago, the same was probably true of the address on the envelope. Maybe some research would be prudent.

John never got into social media – it all seemed so trite and fake. The odd balance of horribly revealing details, catty vagueness, and artificial happiness didn’t appeal to him. He did have a Facebook account though, and decided to look her up there.

The first result for Lara Jean Song Covey, 5 mutual friends, was most certainly his Lara Jean. Well, not  _ his _ Lara Jean, but the one he was looking for. Her profile picture was her with her two sisters, all three of them in what he assumed were traditional Korean dresses. Her hair was pulled back, not in her usual ponytail, but a fancier updo involving pretty braids, maybe for a special celebration. 

He scrolled through her timeline, though not much was publicly viewable. The only posts that showed were sporadic photos of her crafts and baking. In the About tab, there was  _ Goes to Belleview High School _ , meaning she still lived in their hometown. That was good. Then he read the next line down,  _ In a relationship with Peter Kavinsky,  _ and his heart stopped.

Some part of him had hoped she still loved him and that was why she had sent an old love letter. But clearly that wasn’t the case, if she was dating Peter. Maybe this really was a weird cleanse thing or maybe she sent it accidentally. He wasn’t in love with her and calling his crush from middle school  _ love _ was disingenuous, so he had no right to be so disappointed. But he was. 

He had already dreamt of showing up at her doorstep, flowers in hand, looking dashing in one of his suits. She would answer the door and swoon at his romantic gestures. They would ride off into the sunset. He knew how unrealistic all of it was, even as he was thinking it up, but that was the point of fantasy. 

But, well, this didn’t mean he couldn’t go see her, right? Or bring her flowers? Not the suit though, that would make it too awkward, like he was courting her. John Ambrose McClaren was no homewrecker, though if Peter wasn’t treating Lara Jean well, all bets were off. 

Stormy still lived at the hospital in their hometown and John tried to visit at least once a month. The entire family had seen her recently for the winter holidays, but maybe the next time he visited, he could swing by the Song Covey house too. That even gave him the perfect excuse for bringing flowers – he could say that he was buying some for his grandmother anyways and simply grabbed an extra bouquet. A more logical idea was messaging her on Facebook but it was so difficult to read people from chatting online, or even over the phone. He needed to gauge her thoughts in person. The letter opened up unresolved feelings from years ago and while nothing might come of seeing her, he needed to know. 

\--

It was Saturday and today John was going to speak to Lara Jean about the letter. His palms were already sweaty and his heartbeat was like a hummingbird’s, without even leaving the house. He took a breath to calm down. If he showed up to see Stormy looking like an anxious wreck, she would ask him what was up and he would spill every last detail. He loved his grandmother, but she was nosy as nosy got. 

After making it through his first visit with no difficulties, John drove slowly to the Song Covey residence while drowning in fear and doubt.

What if Lara Jean wasn’t home? That would be so awkward. He had no way to know she would be home on a Saturday afternoon, a prime time to be out and about. Maybe she was a social butterfly with plenty of engagements that took her away from the house all the time. Maybe she was on a date with Peter! Oh god, John should just turn away and drive back home right now.

But.

He had already run away, once before. That time he planned on asking her out to the eighth grade formal but chickened out after her dad thought he was trying to make money gardening. And there was every day he had spent not telling her his feelings, up until he moved away, leaving the crush to fade with time. John couldn’t keep living a life of words left unspoken, of chances left untaken. As he gripped the steering wheel, his resolved doubled-down and strengthened.

His fantasy may have involved a nice suit, but knowing Lara Jean was dating someone else, John sensibly wore a nice button down, hair only brushed to not be messy. He didn’t want to look like he was trying to woo her. The flowers he brought were a bright bouquet of wildflowers from the grocery store, nothing romantic like roses or lilies. He also held the letter in his other hand, as tangible explanation for why he came. 

He knocked on the door and prayed for the best. Hopefully, Lara Jean was home. Hopefully, this wouldn’t turn into the most awkward encounter of his short lifetime. 

After a couple breaths, the door opened. It was Lara Jean. Her hair was down, which John didn’t think he ever saw in their years of friendship but wow, she looked just as pretty as John remembered her to be. He had seen her Facebook photo, of course, but those were most often a staged snapshot of perfection in an otherwise messy life.

Emotions flickered across her face in rapid succession – huh, how could he have forgotten how expressive she was? She settled on shock and exclaimed, “John Ambrose?”

Thank goodness she recognized him.

He smiled sheepishly. “Hi, Lara Jean. These are for you and your family.” He handed her the flowers, which she quietly accepted. “Do you mind if I come in?”

“Oh, of course, come on in.” She was flustered but managed a smile as she swung the door shut behind him. She gestured for him to sit in the living room and took the flowers to put in a vase.

When she returned, he spoke up. “I’m sorry for coming by without warning, Lara Jean. I just needed to talk to you in person.”

“Talk to me? About…” Her voice trailed off when she finally noticed the letter he carried. “Oh. Right.” She pursed her lips and looked off to the side, head tilted. She looked like she wanted to maybe run off, before she nodded and her eyes filled with resolve. “Right, the letter. What did you want to know about it?”

“I guess why it was sent. It’s been more than two years since we last spoke. You can only imagine my confusion when I got it.”

She took a deep breath to steady herself and opened her mouth to speak, only to deflate a bit and stare at him quizzically. “Wait a minute, that was addressed to your old house, the one you moved away from. I thought that you never got the letter at all, when I never heard back. It’s been months.” 

“Do you know the Barbers? They’re the family that moved into my old house and they own a landscaping company. We called them this winter to clear away a fallen tree on our driveway and Mr. Barber brought the letter. I didn’t get it until recently.” 

“I see.” Lara Jean nodded for emphasis. “Okay.” She nodded a couple more times, almost like a bobble-head figurine. “This letter was never meant to be sent. You should know that first. It was written when I was young, which I think you figured out.”

John nodded. Maybe nodding was contagious, like yawns. 

“I’m sorry, you must have been so confused. This is so embarrassing, I was really hoping you hadn’t received it.”

“Why is this embarrassing? Your writing was so moving. I don’t think I could have written anything so coherent as a kid. You had reasons and memories, wrote a letter that swept me up with emotion, years after the fact. If I had written you a love letter, all it would have said was ‘I like you’ and maybe ‘your hair is pretty.’ No more than two sentences.”

She blinked at him with a slight blush dusting her cheek. “Oh. Thank you.”

“It sounds like you didn’t mean to send it though. I thought… I didn’t know what to think, other than to be very flattered.”  

“I…no. I didn’t send it.” She ducked down for a moment, hair falling to cover her face. As she tucked it back, she looked at John again. “Kitty, you remember Kitty, right? She thought my love life needed to, well, exist. I wrote a letter every time I felt feelings for a crush so strong the feelings might utterly consume me, just to get the feelings out, not for sending. There were five letters and she sent them all.”

“So I’m one of five, huh? Not very special.” He wondered what was in the other letters, what words of young passion she had written for four other lucky guys. Was Peter one of those four? 

Lara Jean frowned. “I don’t know how many people others fall in love with, and I don’t know that what I felt for you was true love, but my feelings for you were special. Each and every one of the boys I wrote to was special to me, in a different way.”

“My apologies, I didn’t mean to insult you.” 

An awkward silence descended upon them. The rest of the house was quiet; the rest of the family must have been out. Lara Jean fidgeted a bit, fiddling with her hair. John sat still, trying to figure out what to say next. There were so many things he could say, from years of not having the courage to speak. He had made it this far, hadn’t he? Driven here with flowers, knocked on the door, asked her why. 

Some part of him had thought she had sent the letter as an emotional cleanse, which sounded so ridiculous now. Some other part of him had hoped her feelings were current, only to be dashed by knowledge she was dating someone else. The last part of him, the biggest part of him if he was willing to be honest, knew why he was here. For closure. 

Maybe he didn’t have any epistolary or oratorical talents when it came to emotions, but he still felt them. And maybe he couldn’t say that what he had felt in middle school was true love anymore than Lara Jean could, but he had felt something for her. She deserved to know, and he deserved her response.

“I…liked you, back in middle school.”

That caught her attention fast. Lara Jean’s whole body turned towards him and her eyes held his with a strong focus. “What?”

“If you had given me that letter when you wrote it, or if you had told me you loved me the fall of eighth grade, I would have said I loved you back.”

Lara Jean was speechless and still for a moment as she processed what he just said. John watched her face as she cycled through a range of emotions. “I had no idea.”

“Back then, I didn’t have the confidence to say anything. I almost got up the courage to ask you to the eighth grade formal but couldn’t at the last moment. I’m not here for anything else but to say what I didn’t before.” 

She closed her eyes for a moment before opening them back up and smiled. “Thank you for telling me. You brought me flowers but you need to know I have a boyfriend.” 

“I saw on Facebook. Peter.”

She nodded. “That’s right.” 

John kept his voice light and friendly as he asked, “Was he another lucky letter recipient? How did he respond?” There was a mild disappointment that John was too little, too late, that him and Lara Jean could have had something, once upon a confession unspoken. But it was faint. He didn’t even live here anymore – it was all just hopeful conjecture. 

Lara Jean giggled and then launched into a story of fake dating and misunderstandings galore. A tension between them that John hadn’t notice until it passed faded. It felt like their friendship was picking up right where it left off. He provided commentary here and there, expressing pity for poor Margot and Josh who both got iced out for month and laughing at Kitty’s antics. 

John updated Lara Jean on what he was doing currently (still with Model UN and now a member of the student government) and how his family was (everyone healthy, especially Stormy who might outlive them all). Then they reminisced about their adventures together, viewing their childhood from a nostalgic lens.

He didn’t realize how much time had passed until Mr. Covey and Kitty returned home and saw with a jolt the sun was starting to set. It would be time for dinner at his house soon and he traded contact information with Lara Jean as they made their goodbyes. 

Things were different, this goodbye. It wouldn’t be another two plus years for them to speak again, and he wasn’t leaving important things left unspoken. Heart lighter than a few hours ago, he watched Lara Jean close the door from his car and started the ignition. This was goodbye for today, and goodbye to the remnants of feelings for a past Lara Jean held by a past John Ambrose, but it was also a hello to renewed friendships. 

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Lara Jean's letter to John Ambrose is from the book by Jenny Han, copy and pasted exactly (except one change from Virginia to Oregon); it is not my original work.
> 
> Title comes from lyrics in Sara Bareilles's Brave, which I think fits very well for the themes of honest communication in the movie and for what I'm trying to capture in here. 
> 
> Thank you to Prinzenhasserin and Ailurea for the betaing!
> 
> Please let me know of any errors. Kudos and comments are appreciated. Thanks for reading! <3


End file.
